xxDoxxie » Lair » Yersinia

Yersinia

(#67244937)

Level 1 Banescale

Familiar

Contaminated Ambassador

Energy: 0/50

Personal Style

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

7.54 m

Wingspan

6.6 m

Weight

499.16 kg

Genetics

Hatchday

Feb 10, 2021
(3 years)

Breed

Adult
Banescale

Eye Type

Plague
Primal

Level 1 Banescale

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

none

Biography

♛

↞ YERSINIA ↠

ROLE
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healer

AGE
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

unknown

ASSOCIATION
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Cult of Mor

PARTNER
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none

YERSINIA;
THE CARRIER OF CONTAGION

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The land of plague can be unusual and cruel. This is a fact that the Banescale has always been aware of.
When she hatched, she knew only pain and blindness. A stinging sensation that enveloped her eyes left her in dismay and turmoil; even more so with her parents, who despite being those of plague, saw the infection that left her sightless not something to be cured, but rather, a sign of deep misfortune.
They did not kill her, though perhaps that would have been a mercy. There were discussions of it, yes, but it was decided that she would merely be left to rot in the claustrophobic den that she was hatched in.
Alone, blind, and confused, as the days passed, the infection only seemed to worsen, and the hatchling grew hungry and weak. In a pathetic attempt to save herself, she left the den. But for a dragon without sight, there was no doubt she would not survive in that cruel, unforgiving world.

Or, she shouldn’t have. But she was found by an old, passing dragon; a strong one, who had seen many wounds and infections from the battles they had once endured.
The war veteran was a lonely dragon, and they would have been fine staying lonely. But seeing the poor, feeble child, they took pity, and shared with her a meal, despite the contagion that enveloped her face. The hatchling was grateful, for the first time, they had experienced kindness.
The old dragon, who along with their warrior sentence, was quite vast in the knowledge of plague magic; more specifically, “healing” magic. They decided to give the hatchling sight, in the only way they knew how; by causing the infection to billow more and more, until a fleshy substance appeared across it and multiple sickly eyes grew embedded inside it.
But with the infection growing worse, the pain began to dull, and finally, the hatchling could see. Perhaps it was not the perfect sight, for she only saw a landscape in pieces and through shades of green and murk, but she could see. She could analyze, and she could fend for herself.
Seeing how the infection grew, the war veteran decided what name to give the hatchling. Yersinia.

Perhaps it was one made out of a tad cruel bit of humor, but the child still savored it and bore it correctly. For the first time in her life, Yersinia had a name, and she had sight. She was a being.
Yersinia would continue to help the old dragon in any way she could, finding herself in debt to them. She learned handfuls of plague magic to them, and the art of healing. But as the days passed, she noticed that the veteran was getting sick; and no matter how hard she tried to cure them, she could not.
As the sickness began to take form psychically, she noticed how it grew in a fleshy substance around the skin, and how it would soon begin boiling in pools of green. And even more strangely, she felt a sense of familiarity towards it.
This was how she realized that this infection’s source had been herself.
For her parents, as cruel as they were, had not been wrong in addressing her as a sign of misfortune. She was cursed with the sight of plague, and thus, also born to spread it. And the veteran getting her infection to fester had only made her abilities worse.
And while this disease had perhaps been their own fault, Yersinia had been the one faced with a strong feeling of guilt.
And so, as they slept, she wrote a note to them apologizing for the trouble she caused, before disappearing into the night, knowing that if she just stayed near them, the illness would only worsen.
For a while, Yersinia traversed through the wasteland by herself. Filled with a sense of loneliness and the worry that she might just be the monster she always feared she was, she did not engage much with other dragons- at least, for a bit.

She once came across a dragon with a deadly illness, and despite her better consciousness, she wanted to help them with the knowledge she had picked up from her former “mentor”.
Soon, Yersinia came across a way to make her infection useful.
By carefully pushing this dragon to the limit with it, they were able to get better by developing a resistance to it. A common tactic for most plague healers, and one she excelled in.

She could easily kill someone with it, yes- but even more so, if she learned how to control it, she could use it to cure others. And that was what she planned to do, taking the next couple of years of her life to practicing this healing magic.
There were accidents, of course, especially in the early years. Those ones would always haunt Yersinia; the failures engraved in her mind only further pushing her to succeed.
Soon, she heard rumors of a place called the “Cult of Mor”, which specialized in curing those thought to be incurable. She grew great interest in this, wondering if her abilities could help there. And, even more so, if she could get the chance to help dragons like the one she had met so long ago; dragons cursed by war, thought to be forever scarred.
Yersinia was accepted, much to her relief. Finally, she had a place where she could be equal; a place where she could focus on the future, as sickly green as it will always be to her. A place to thrive, and put what was once a curse to a dangerous blessing.

Lore written by winterleaves11

code by archaic #19153

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Exalting Yersinia to the service of the Windsinger will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.

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